These Dark Days Through Someone Else's Eyes
by kitkatritrat
Summary: Deathly Hallows through Draco's eyes. How his relationship with Astoria progresses even through his Death Eater days. -Kit Kat
1. Prologue

**Hi! This is a sequel to my other fic **_**Through Someone Else's Eyes,**_** but you definitely don't have to read that to get this one. Just for the record, Harry Potter does not belong to me, it belongs to Ms. J.K. Rowling. Please don't sue me. I hope you enjoy!**

**-Kit Kat**

Draco could feel his heartbeat race. The drawing room of Malfoy Manor was large, dark, and cold. A diminishing light barely lit the large table at which many people in midnight black robes sat, looking aloof, serene, and some…terrified. Draco sat in a stiff, ornate chair next to his father, who was staring straight ahead with his nose in the air. Narcissa, on Lucius's other side, stared at her hands and shivered.

They were arguing, the Death Eaters, about Harry Potter. When he'd be moved. The Dark Lord sat at the head of the table. His blood red eyes searched each of his servants. The huge pet snake he called Nagini slithered around the arm of it's master's chair. When Voldemort talked, everyone listened. The sat in cowering fear. He was speaking now.

"…I shall need, for instance," he drawled. His voice was raspy and unmerciful, "to borrow a wand from one of you before I go to kill Potter."

Everyone sat in reserved shock, horror on each face. To take a wizard's wand was to take away his power. That's why many joined the Dark Lord in the first place. For power or out of fear. The Dark Lord preyed on both.

Voldemort stood, his black robes grazing the floor. Nagini slithered along at his feet. He walked around the table slowly, as if trying to decide whose wand to take. He paused here and there, running his pale long-fingered hand along each chair. Each time the Dark Lord passed someone, they flinched. He was getting closer. Lucius stared straight ahead as he passed, his jaw clenched. Finally, he reached Draco. The Dark Lord paused. Draco stared at his feet, refusing to look the man…if he could even be called a man any longer…in the eyes. Voldemort seemed to ponder him for a while, gazing down at the young Malfoy's white-blond head. Narcissa let out a slight squeak, like a frightened mouse. As if to say _Don't touch my baby. _She regretted it immediately. Voldemort barely glanced at her, then turned back around towards his own side of the table. Draco breathed a horrifically audible sigh of relief, that is, until he released the Dark Lord had paused at his father again.

"No volunteers?" Voldemort said scathingly, "Let's see…Lucius, I see no reason for you to have a wand anymore."

"My Lord?" he stuttered. Lucius looked up at his master with sunken, pleading eyes. Azkaban had done things to Draco's father. Made him sick…and even colder than before. Draco remembered the day of the breakout. He remembered seeing his father again for the first time. It was somewhere between pity and love and resentment. All the same, it was true, Lucius had no reason for a wand anymore. He couldn't even leave the Manor if not in disguise. Because they would take him back.

Voldemort found every reason to punish the elder Malfoy every since his mistake at the Ministry. He tried to take his son, to give him an impossible task, and now he was taking his wand.

"You're wand, Lucius. I require your wand."

"I…"

Narcissa lifted her pale hand from her lapped and clenched her husband wrist. At her touch, Lucius drew his wand from inside his robes and handed it to the Dark Lord.

~~~~xXx~~~~

Draco sat at his dark oak desk. His hand shook as he dipped his quill into the tar-black ink. He swept the quill across the crisp new parchment and wrote,

_I'm sorry I haven't written. I'm sure you don't understand. I'm worried, I haven't heard from you. It's horrible here. I can't say much more. I still love you,_

_DM_

Draco had found a shred of light in these dark days. She was beautifully, and he loved her. Draco hadn't ever truly loved anyone before until now. It was scary, but exhilarating. He knew he was putting her life in danger. Her whole family in danger. Sadly, he was to selfish to care.

He placed the letter in an envelope and sealed it. He watch his eagle owl soar off into the stormy black sky, distorted by frothy grey clouds. Thunder rumbled in the distance. The world was crumbling and he was one who had knocked over the first domino.


	2. Always Whisperings

_**Sorry this took forever, I had a major case of writer's block. But I hope to update regularly now. Thanks and enjoy!**_

_**-Kit Kat**_

_Kill him, Draco, now!_

_Can't...I...I can't...won't..._

_Now, Draco!_

_Avada Kedavra!_

Draco woke up slick with sweat. He body ached as he shivered under the thick satin comforter. The darkness surrounded him, consumed him. His ragged breath cut the cold the could air and echoed around the great room. It was always the same dream. Always.

~x~

The smog from the great maroon train made him cough as he pushed his way through crowds of students. Draco shoved a petty second-year out of the way as he boarded. He had grown even taller this year but it seemed even more so as he stood next to these children, them only beginning their adventures at Hogwarts and him ending his. They respected him, but it wasn't just because of the gleaming Head Boy badge on his chest. They had all heard the stories, the whisperings, that the Malfoy family were nothing but a bunch of Death Eaters. Nowadays Death Eaters were respected, and Draco had to hear his father rave about it every night at dinner.

"Finally! The Dark Lord reigns again. We are respected, we are conquerors."

The speech would have seemed prideful if Draco couldn't watch his father's face whenever the Dark Lord was around. It wasn't pride Draco saw, only cowardice.

It only took one glare from Draco to make any younger student shrink back, even the Muggleborns who knew nothing of whispers and Death Eaters. He was intimidating enough without badge or threat. _Is this what I have become? _he wondered, _A bully and a coward, just like Father?_ Or maybe he always had been, he was just realizing it now.

Draco walked down the carpeted hall down the train and ducked into the largest compartment reserved for Prefects and the Head Boy and Head Girl. He was the first to arrive, and he had some time to himself to think. The rain was pounding against the old window. Draco was already wet and slightly cold, but the heat of the train coming through the vent on the floor was starting to warm him. He pulled out his wand and began to dry himself with it, first running across his chest, then his hair.

This was the first year Narcissa hadn't come along to wish him off. She claimed she had to stay home and take care of Father. Recently escaped from Azkaban, he was weak and slightly crazy. He would often stand and scream at the walls and occasionally throw things. The only thing that would calm him was Narcissa's, sometimes. Only sometimes. Sometimes it wouldn't work, and he would throw things at her. And sometimes...

But Draco wouldn't...couldn't think about that. He was clad she didn't come. He didn't want her to, she had always babied him. He had tried to get her to stop for the past few years, anyways, but he didn't tell her not to this year. She was having a hard enough time already with Father.

Pansy walked into the compartment just as Draco was finishing up drying his ankles.

"There's a faster way of doing that, you know," she said tartly, as she ran her wand through her wet hair, drying it.

"Yes, there is," he snapped back, "but I assume you don't know the spell, either, considering the way your drying your hair."

Pansy plopped down on the seat across from him. Her plain black hair was now perfectly dry, although messy. She pulled out a comb and began tugging at her hair with it, yelping every now and then.

"Now, Draco, is that any way to treat an old friend? Or are we still even friends?"

"That's not the word I would use."

Pansy rolled her eyes, "Why so hostile? I see you've made Head Boy. That gives you a lot of power, doesn't it? But where is your Head Girl?"

The train still hadn't left the station yet. Draco leaned his head against the window. It was cold and numbed his cheek. The rain sounded like a drum beat relentlessly in his ear.

"The Mudblood Granger was given the title, as you very well know. She appears to not be on the train, Potter or Weasley either. I was almost hoping she'd come. I would've relished watching one of the Carrows strip her of name and badge. Like a couple of Death Eaters would let a Mudblood be a Prefect. That decision must have been made while Dumbledore was still alive. I just hope they've taken her to court already. You've heard about the new Muggleborn Registration Commission, naturally?"

Pansy looked as if someone had knocked all the wind out of her, there was a blank look in her eye and she had stopped combing,

"Of...of... of course. But the new teachers, they are...Death Eaters?" She ended in a whisper.

"Do you have a problem with that?"

"No...no, no of course not. It's, um, just..."

"You know, Pansy, you wouldn't have minded that so much a few years back," he said with a smirk.

"No, I know, it's just..."

"That was before you realized what they were capable of, of what the Dark Lord's return truly meant."

"Yes," she said quietly. The rain had slowed, and they could watch two Minisry officials lead a young girl away. Her parents were sobbing and calling after her. The girl looked about eleven, with dirty blonde hair and wearing her new Hogwarts robes, no doubt. She looked confused and upset.

"Another Mudblood," Pansy said, this time almost a whisper. She didn't say the word like others did, with scorn and disgust. Draco could tell she was trying to say it in a mean way, to impress him maybe, but she couldn't. She just sounded sad, somewhat regretful.

"Yes," he said with spite, "another Mudblood."


End file.
